


Like The Sunset In Your Eyes

by bittersweet (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, artist! harry, can it even be considered sex, the sex is so fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:58:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bittersweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's an aspiring artist and Louis works in an art gallery and fate has a funny way of working things out, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like The Sunset In Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> wow, okay, this is _long_ overdue, but here it is. i'm pretty happy about it, so i hope you all enjoy it.

When Harry sees Louis for the first time, he's painting on the waterfront, splattering the canvas with yellows and oranges and bright pinks depicting the sunset before him. Louis smiles at him and says hello, and Harry nods his head mid-stroke, acknowledging the petite boy watching him at work. Louis tells him his painting looks pretty, although it's unfinished, and Harry stops painting for a moment and says thank you. Louis smiles and says he'll see him around, and walks away.

Harry gets the feeling that this encounter won't be the last they have.

(Harry's right. He's usually right about these things)

When Harry meets Louis for the first time, he's finishing his painting of the sunset. Louis says hello again, and this time Harry meets his eyes and grins at him. They tell eachother their names and Harry tells Louis that he's a painter. Louis tells Harry that he works in an art gallery and that was the moment Harry knew that they were destined for eachother (like vines that were bound to intertwine eventually).

Louis pulls out his phone and Harry saves his number into it as Sunset Boy. Louis brushes his fingers against Harry's wrist and says "See you soon, Sunset Boy." and Harry's heart swells.

He finishes the painting that night.

When Harry invites Louis over for the first time, Louis is in awe. His flat is a bit messy and smells like paint and faintly like Sharpies but its just so _Harry_ and Louis can't complain, really, and if it were anyone else he'd complain and bicker about how he needs air fresheners, for god's sakes, but Harry's smile is so gentle and soft and he looks proud of the place so Louis bites his tongue.

Harry shows him an office-like room ("This is the studio. It's not remotely close to being a studio, but it's good enough for now.") full of paintings of lakes and trees and animals and there's a painting of a girl in a frilly pink dress in the left corner but Louis figures he'll ask Harry about it later. They eat dinner -Louis finds out Harry is a great cook and can make a killer chicken parmesan- and they talk about their hometowns and how Harry left everything he had behind to pursue his dreams.

Louis talks about how he's so damn scared about the future, about he wishes he could go back to Doncaster and work at Tesco's and not be so alone in London where there's bright lights and scary people that could probably fuck him up if they wanted to. Harry just kisses his hand and tells him not to worry because he's got _him_ now and he won't let anyone hurt him and for the first time in two years, Louis feels safe and at home. They bid eachother farewell with kisses on the cheek and promises that they'll see eachother again soon.

When Harry kisses Louis for the first time, they're hand in hand and it's the weather for snow and Louis is really, really chilly. Harry gives him his big grey scarf and kisses his reddened and raw nose. Louis giggles and Harry makes them stop in a coffee shop so they can buy Louis a cup of tea and a doughnut to try to help him warm up. They go back to Harry's flat, not wanting to bear the cold weather anymore, and Louis eats his doughnut and ends up with some powdered sugar on his lips.

Harry thinks he looks adorable and sexy and absolutely _delicious,_ so he leans in and pecks Louis right on his sugar-covered lips. Louis quite likes the idea of Harry's lips on his own, and goes right back in for another kiss, this time more heated as they lick into eachothers mouths, savoring the moment. Harry thinks Louis tastes like tea and peppermint and sugar. They touch foreheads and their tongues dance against eachother as they explore unknown territory (Louis hopes it'll become familiar to him, someday.)  
When they pull back, Louis is beaming and Harry has a cheeky smile on his face. Louis is left speechless, and the only thing Harry can do is mumble something about how that must've warmed Louis up (and he was damn right, because Louis was now flushed pink and his skin was warm to the touch). The first thing Louis says when he's done catching his breath is "You're a good kisser, Sunset Boy."

When Harry tells Louis he loves him for the first time it's on a cold December afternoon. The snowflakes are falling in a steady stream of white and Louis is in one of Harry's sweaters and a beanie. They're in Harry's flat, sipping hot chocolate and watching some nostalgic Christmas cartoon on television. Louis gets bored, which isn't surprising because Louis gets bored so very easily, and pads over to Harry's stereo.

He squeals at Harry to come dance to some pop music he's certain he hates, but he looks like a six year old and how could Harry possibly deny that face of his? So he does, he dances with Louis and if it was anyone but him, he'd be flushed red and refusing to make eye contact. But this was Louis, and the joy came so easily and he felt loved and happy and warm inside. Louis attempts to do the worm, and when he fails he pulls Harry down on the ground with him and they're in a tangle of limbs and sweet kisses and lovesick teenagers (except for the fact that no, they're in their twenties but that was the thing, they made eachother feel so young and alive and it was wonderful). 

As the next song comes onto the radio, Louis freezes and stands up in a hurry. He tells Harry to stand up quickly because his favorite song is playing and kind of a slow song, really, but Harry just shrugs and thinks fuck it (and wonders when this boy became such a big part of his life).

Harry obliges, and suddenly Louis is pulling him into an embrace and they're swaying softly to the beat. Harry puts his hands on Louis' waist and Louis steps on Harrys feet in an attempt to be taller so he could be at eye level with the younger boy. He buries his face into Harry's neck and whispers the lyrics into his skin, spreading like ink on paper and sending a rush through his bones. Harry presses small kisses to Louis' beanie, smiling into the fabric when he feels Louis' hot breath on his neck again.

When the song finishes, Louis raises his head to look into Harry's eyes, sparkling with adoration. Harry cups his jaw and presses a sweet kiss to his lips and whispers a simple "I love you, Louis."

And when Louis replies with an "I love you too.", it's as if he's never been more sure of anything in his life.

When Harry and Louis make love for the first time, it's the night of their six month anniversary. Louis finds it so sappy and adorable that Harry was waiting for the right time to do it, wanting it to be just perfect. It's not like Louis hadn't seen Harry naked before, and it's not like they didn't give eachother the odd handjob or blowjob, but this was far more intimate and Louis blushed when Harry asked him if he'd like to make love.

When Louis gets home from his late night shift at the gallery, Harry's attempting to make some sort of pattern on the bed with the rosepetals and blushes a bright pink when Louis walks in the room. Louis gasps at the sight, his boyfriend smiling proudly on the bed covered with rosepetals and with candles on the nightstand that smelled of vanilla and lavender.

Louis looks at Harry with his head cocked to the side, as if to ask if he's sure about this. Harry just nods and smiles brighter, motioning to the condoms and lube he'd placed on the pillow earlier. When Harry stands up to pull Louis into a tender embrace, Louis notices that the pattern Harry was creating earlier was a big "6", symbolizing their 6 glorious months together. Louis' heart swells in his chest, because he was so god damn lucky to have Harry and he couldn't imagine his life without him, no matter how hard he tried (not that he tried to imagine a life without his sunshine, because the thought of losing him kept Louis awake at night).

Harry pulls at the hem of Louis' sweatshirt, motioning for him to take it off. Harry does the same, throwing his white tshirt onto the floor in a ball. They kiss like this for a few minutes, lovebites being sucked into their skin and hands trailing everywhere that was exposed. Soon, they were both sporting semi hard-ons and were desperate for friction, shedding their pants and boxers until they were completely bare. Louis mumbles something against the flushed skin of Harry's neck and it's as though all of Harry's self restraint is gone, picking him up by his thighs and placing him softly on the edge of the bed (as if he's made of glass, because Louis is a masterpiece in Harry's eyes, like something fragile he doesn't want to break).

Louis is straddling Harry's waist on the bed, cocks grinding together in a desperate search for as much friction as they could find. Harry was naked and exposed to Louis, but it was strange because it felt like it was the most comfortable thing in the world. Usually, he's fairly uncomfortable with sex because he's insecure about his tall, lanky body with limbs that were too long and make him feel like a puppy with oversized paws. But with Louis, it's different. Louis makes him feel warm and safe and loved. Louis just grins at him and begins peppering light kisses to every part of Harry's skin, each kiss coming with a mumble of "You're gorgeous" or "I love you" or "You're so beautiful, Harry, I don't think I really deserve you."

They have a silent conversation with their lust-blown eyes, and they come to a mutual decision that yeah, they're a hundred percent completely ready for this.  
Louis starts with one, two, three lubed-up fingers and Harry's overwhelmed. It's not like he hasn't done this before -because he has, more times than he'd probably like to admit- but it's different and special because he's never loved someone as much as he loves Louis. Louis goes slow and asks him if he's okay, (he takes the moans and high pitched whimpers of his name as a form of a yes) and takes care of him like he couldn't love anyone else in the world if he tried.

When Louis notices that Harrys cock is red and hard and throbbing and looks so, so painful, he carefully removes his fingers, one at a time. Harry hisses at the loss, but when he hears Louis opening the condom package and spreading lube over his cock, he thinks he can bear it for a few seconds more.

When Louis finally pushes inside Harry, it's undoubtedly the best feeling he's ever had. Harry's so tight and warm and his heat engulfs Louis' cock. Louis tells Harry that he's so pretty and he feels amazing and he's being so good for him, and Harry blushes. (but when Louis would confront him later, he'd say it was just a 'sex flush', whatever that meant.)

Soon, they hit their highs and Louis is thrusting sloppily and Harry's moaning so loudly that Louis wouldn't be surprised if his neighbors complained about it.

Harry comes all over his lower stomach and Louis follows soon after, filling the condom up. They suck a few more lovebites on heated skin before Louis pulls out and Harry winces. Harry's clingier than Louis would've expected, looking up at him with bright eyes before wrapping his arms around the smaller frame and mumbling sweet nothings in his fringe. Louis smiles and tells him that he was amazing, tells him he's beautiful, so beautiful, and loved very much. He kisses Harry's forehead before he discards of the condom in Harry's bathroom, grabbing a flannel and returning to wipe Harry's chest. Harry smiles and thanks Louis, and Louis climbs into bed with him and curls up beside him, Harry's tall body engulfing his smaller one. Harry presses a kiss to Louis' nose, and Louis looks up at him, eyelids heavy, and tells him how good he was and that they'd definitely be doing that again soon.

Harry smiles back and agrees.

When Harry paints Louis for the first time, Louis' naked and sprawled out on Harry's bed and Harry can't stop telling him how absolutely gorgeous he is. Harry was nervous at first, nervous that Louis would get bored early and leave Harry with an unfinished painting that he was sure would be a masterpiece. But Louis lies down and smiles at Harry, completely and comfortably exposed, and nudges him whislt muttering a small "Paint me, babe."

So Harry does. He grabs his canvas and thanks Louis for letting him do this before starting his work. He'd put on The Fray CD for Louis, so he wouldn't get too bored, but when Harry took that first brushstroke Louis decided that the gentle yet determined look on his face was enough to keep him occupied.

Harry starts slowly, painting Louis' outline. Every few minutes, he mutters something about Louis being so beautiful, so gorgeous, or so perfect, and Louis thanks him.

Sometimes Harry pauses for a moment and runs his fingers along Louis' jaw, slender fingers brushing over rough stubble. It was almost as if he was in a trance, awed by Louis' beauty, inspired by his nature. When Harry compliments Louis, sometimes Louis just chuckles and asks Harry if he's looked in the mirror lately, because if he thinks Louis' pretty, Harry must be the equivalent of a God. Harry just smiles and his dimple appears (and Louis loves when the dimple shows, because Harry's truly happy, and Louis often basks in the sunlight Harry's smile gives off). 

When Harry announces that he's done with the outline, he calls Louis over to look at it and make sure he thinks it looks okay. Louis nods and walks over to where Harry's set the canvas up, and his eyes widen.

It's like looking in a mirror. Harry's done a magnificent job with his face, from his button nose to his thin lips (and Louis likes that Harry knows his body well enough to paint the shape of his jaw perfectly and the round shape of his eyes just right). His hair looks like a beautiful disaster, every brush stroke showing how it stuck up in all directions. He rakes his eyes over the muscles in his biceps, his tummy, his thighs, his cock.

Harry bites him bottom lip nervously, afraid that Louis wouldn't like the painting and that it didn't do him justice (because he's beautiful and deserves the world and maybe even more).

Louis stands there for a few seconds, still gaping at the painting.

Noticing Harry's tense state, he smiles and wraps his arms around his boyfriend's neck.

"It's...Wow. I don't really know what to say, Harry. It's amazing, so detailed, so lifelike. It's a masterpiece, babe."

He feels Harry relax in his arms and he lifts his head up to steal a kiss from the older boy.

Louis stretches for a few minutes and Harry grabs him some crisps to munch on. They soon begin again, Louis trying to put himself in the same position as before and Harry telling him not to worry, because no matter what he did, it'd be perfect.

Louis doesn't believe him, really, but he refrains from making any comments for Harry's sake.

Harry starts rambling, again, and Louis smiles up at him and thinks that he'd be just fine with listening to his voice every day for the rest of his life (he kind of hopes he'll get the chance to).

When Harry gets his first display in a small gallery at the other side of town, it's a display of the sunset painting that he'd finished the day he met Louis. Louis has always been a big believer in fate and when Harry gets the call that they'd love to display his painting (which he'd titled _A New Beginning_ , and when Louis asks why he flushes pink and says something about soulmates and love and how the painting signified the first day of the rest of his life) he thinks it kind of confirms the matter.

That night they fuck in the shower and on the counter and again in bed, and when it's midnight and they're soft and happy and pliant, Louis kisses Harry's cheeks and jaw and lips and tells him that he's so proud, because Harry's finally made it and all those years of living on takeout and paint fumes have payed off.

When the day that the display is set to be revealed rolls around, Harry's palms are sweaty and he can't stop shaking.

"It's going to be fine, my dear, shh, stop shaking!" Louis coos, petting at Harry's hair. They're laying in bed, Harry's head on Louis' chest. Louis says they should probably get up and do something to calm Harry's nerves, but he claims that he'll get worked up and end up getting sick and Louis doesn't want to risk that.

"I can't, Louis, that's the thing. What if they don't like it? What if they think it's so horrible that they won't even _consider_ displaying anything of mine anything ever again?" he looks so innocent, like a five year old before their first day of school, eyes red rimmed with tears threatening to spill and pink lips in a pout.

"They'll love it, Harry, you've just got to trust me, yeah? You'll do wonderful, just take some deep breaths, yeah, there you go, just like that." Louis coos, rubbing small circles on Harry's lower back and listening to his labored breathing. "Just trust me."

When they arrive at the small gallery in Louis' old car, people are already inside and looking at all the displays. Harry visibly tenses up, and Louis pulls him into an embrace in the frigid air outside the door.

"You're gonna do just fine, remember what I told you, yeah?"

Louis is never wrong.

Harry's greeted with calls of "Hello, Mr. Styles!" and "Lovely work you've done here!" and Harry flushes pink and looks back at Louis, who nods towards the crowd with a smile on his face.

The display looks beautiful, the canvas framed on the white wall, pinks and oranges blending together (kind of like Louis and Harry's lives, Louis thinks). Beside the painting is a poem that nearly brings Louis to tears.

_watching a sunset_  
 _is sort of like_  
 _falling in love_  
 _it starts out_  
 _small_  
 _but soon_  
 _illuminates_  
 _your whole_  
 _world._

He can tell Harry wrote it, because it has their story written in black ink and there's an H.S at the corner of the paper and when Louis finds Harry in the crowd of people in suits and ties and expressionless faces he kisses him senseless (nobody questions it).

When Harry knows Louis' the one, they're sitting on the roof of the building that hosts Harry's flat (it's now actually HarryandLouis' flat, but it was Harry's flat first and Louis still isn't used to calling it his own). They're looking up at the stars, the city lights shining bright in Louis' eyes.

Harry's become more successful, selling paintings of landscapes and buildings and the waterfront where he and Louis first met. He still paints Louis, but never shows anyone, because he's Louis and Louis is his and his only ("M'kind of like your muse, aren't I, Harry?" "No, never. you're my Louis.").

With Louis on a rooftop above a busy street, Harry kind of feels invincible. He tangles their fingers together and Louis squeezes tightly, as if maybe this is an illusion and if he lets go this life they've made together will vanish.

The concrete is cool beneath them, causing them to press against eachother and share kisses between glances at the sky above them.

"We're so small compared to all of this." Louis mumbles.

Harry props himself up on an elbow and raises an eyebrow, encouraging Louis to continue with his train of thought.

"Look at all of this. Someone somewhere on the other side of the world is looking at this same sky and we'll never get to meet them because the world is so big and we're just two kids in love and we're so _small_ , Harry, we're nothing compared to all of this. We could get lost one day, you know, you, me, and the stars."

"If I had to get lost, I'd love to get lost with you." Harry smiles down at Louis, fringe plastered to his forehead and arms behind his head, propping himself up slightly. He thinks Louis looks beautiful.

"You know what?" Louis says, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

"What is it, love?" Harry replies, voice soft. He'll probably drift off to sleep soon, Louis can tell.

"I'm gonna marry you someday, Sunset Boy."

Harry thinks he's more than okay with that.


End file.
